All language subtitles for Monk_S05E16_Mr. Monk Goes to the Hospital.English (CC)

[suspenseful music playing]

[elevator bell dings]

[woman speaks indistinctly over P.A.]

So I said, "You can't
leave your boy here all day."

"This is where I live.
This is not a day care center."

I know.

Well, it took me five years to tell her.

I'd been watching the kid…

Oh, gosh, since he was
about six months old.

I know.

Well, since I work the night shift,

I watch him during the day.

Well, that's it, I'm sleeping.

I am sleeping during the day.

Oh, no. How many months is she?

[scoffs] Oh, don't start.

[conversation fades]

[elevator bell dings]

[suspenseful music continues]

[oxygen mask hisses]

[oxygen mask hisses]

What are you doing out of bed?

[groans]

[grunts]

["It's a Jungle Out There"
by Randy Newman playing]

♪ It's a jungle out there ♪

♪ Disorder and confusion everywhere ♪

♪ No one seems to care ♪

♪ Well, I do ♪

♪ Hey, who's in charge here? ♪

♪ It's a jungle out there ♪

♪ Poison in the very air we breathe ♪

♪ You know what's in the water
That you drink? ♪

♪ Well, I do, and it's amazing ♪

♪ People think I'm crazy
'Cause I worry all the time ♪

♪ If you paid attention
You'd be worried too ♪

♪ You'd better pay attention
Or this world we love so much ♪

♪ Might just kill you ♪

♪ I could be wrong now ♪

♪ But I don't think so ♪

♪ 'Cause it's a jungle out there ♪

♪ It's a jungle out there ♪

[quirky music playing]

[Natalie] Another step.

We're almost there.

One step at a time.

-Ah…
-Ah, you're being so brave.

Tell them I'm a former police officer.

You tell 'em yourself.

Okay, here we go.

[nurse] No. No, you can't bring them here.

We're out of beds.

Where I'm gonna put them, on the roof?

Well, try St. Barnabas.
They might have room.

-Hello.
-Yeah.

What's she doing?

She's holding up a finger.

The bad finger?

No, Mr. Monk, the pointy finger.

Good luck. Can I help you?

Yes, this is Adrian Monk.

M-O-N…

M-O-N-K. He has a bloody nose.

-It's been bleeding all morning.
-Yeah, it's been bleeding all morning.

-It won't stop.
-It won't stop.

Cause of injury?

I was putting away my ironing board,

which is normally a two-person job--

Mr. Monk, it's my day off. It still is.

An ironing board.
I need your insurance card.

-[Natalie] Yes.
-Fill this out, both sides.

Former police officer.

He's a former police officer.

I appreciate that, but he has to wait,

just like everybody else.

You and your husband
can have a seat over there.

Oh, we're not married.

Congratulations. Have a seat.

Oh--

[Monk] Wait a second.

Hey, wait, wait. Excuse me.

I-- I was here before him.

That man has a head wound.

This is a head wound.

That is not a head wound.

Actually, it is, technically.

You have a bloody nose.

Look, It's a wound,

and it's on my head.

Do you have a dictionary back there?

What is she doing?

Now it's the bad finger.

[Natalie] Let's sit down.

[laughing] Yes, I promise,

I will definitely be there. [laughs]

Okay, let's synchronize our watches.

-[laughs]
-I'm allergic to tetracycline.

Yeah, I know, Mr. Monk.

-One dose of tetracycline will kill me.
-[laughs]

Yeah, look, I have it right here.

Allergies: tetracycline.

No-- I will probably beat you there.

I'm right around the corner.

I'm at St. Mark's Hospital.

Emergency room.

Oh, it's not me, it's my boss.

It's a bloody nose.

[laughs]

I know. Okay.

Me too.

All right, bye.

-Uh, Mr. Monk, I need--
-Ah--

There's a light bulb out.

-Yeah--
-Two, actually.

Okay, Mr. Monk,
I need to tell you something.

Um, don't freak out,
but I've made some plans,

and I'm just gonna go
for a couple of hours.

No! No, no, no.

No, you can't leave.
You can't leave me here.

Mr. Monk, you're in really good hands.

It's a really great hospital.

And I mean, come on,

it's not like it's life or death.

It's a-- it's a nosebleed.

How can you say that?

I've lost a gallon of blood.

I'm hemorrhaging.

You are not hemorrhaging.

Look, I've already canceled on this guy

three times because of--

well, because of you.

You're leaving me?

Don't say that.

Please don't make me cancel again.

I really, really like this guy.

-You're leaving me.
-I'll be back by 2:30.

Natalie… I'm really scared.

You're always scared.

Yes, but now I'm scared and hemorrhaging.

Okay, Mr. Monk, come on, please.

I've been on call for 24 hours a day,

seven days a week, and I'm exhausted.

I mean, it's my first day off

in-- in what, two months?

And this date, this guy--
it's important to me.

Oh, God.

[sighs]

God--

All right, but I mean, if you really…

really want me to stay…

I'll stay.

I want you to stay.

I can't stay.

Okay, I'll leave my phone on, all right?

I will be back in just a couple hours.

Okay, bye.

[quirky music playing]

[baby cries]

[people cough]

[person sneezes]

Is it seeping or oozing?

[nurse] Okay, Mr. Lam,

you have to sign right here.

We're sending Mr. Lam right in.

Hello, excuse me.

I have been sitting there
for an hour and a half.

I know, we're booked up, as you can see.

[speaking Vietnamese]

If I may?

I speak a little Vietnamese.

-[speaking Vietnamese]
-Okay.

-[speaking Vietnamese]
-Yeah.

[speaking Vietnamese]

Yeah, he's saying that,
uh, he's feeling much better.

He's feeling fine,
and he would like to go home.

[speaking Vietnamese]

On a city bus.

[speaking Vietnamese]

Right. Right, yeah, yeah.

He thinks, uh-- he thinks this man--

oh, yeah, I guess he means me--

should go ahead of him.

I speak Vietnamese.

-I'll be sitting over here.
-Yeah, you do that.

[woman speaks indistinctly over P.A.]

[baby cries]

[man coughs]

A nosebleed, huh?

Uh-huh.

My stepbrother had the same thing.

It turned out to be a cerebral hemorrhage.

He was dead in a week.

Adrian Monk!

[quirky music playing]

-[doctor] A cerebral hemorrhage?
-Mm.

[doctor] Who told you that?

A very prominent patient.

I didn't get her name.

Well… I have to respectfully disagree.

What you have is a simple rupture

of the olfactory membrane.

-Yeah?
-Your basic nosebleed.

I think I should be admitted,

just for a few days,

so you can be sure.

I'm gonna cauterize it.

Tilt your head back.

Here's the thing--

she said that her stepbrother
had the exact same symptoms,

and here's the thing--

it feels like a cerebral hemorrhage.

Mr. Monk, I've seen a cerebral hemorrhage.

I interned with Graydon Whitcomb

-for two years.
-Who's that?

He's the head of neurotrauma.

Let's call him.

I'll tell you what, if this doesn't work,

I will take you upstairs
to see Dr. Whitcomb, okay?

Yeah.

Now sit back.

Okay, this might sting a little bit.

Wait, wait, wait. Wait, wait, wait, wait.

Wait.

[exhales]

Okay. Okay.

All right.

-Okay, wait, wait, wait--
-Mr. Monk, I have other patients.

Can't we just wait
till Natalie comes back?

Who's Natalie?

She's my assistant. She's on a date.

Sure.

[sighs]

What time do you think
Natalie will be back?

Uh, probably, like--

-Aah!
-There, that's it.

-You're done.
-That's it?

[doctor] Mm-hmm.

It stopped.

Unless-- unless I'm out of blood.

That wasn't so terrible was it?

-No.
-No.

-Oh.
-[beeper beeps]

I have to take this.

Can you find your way out?

-Yes, thank you.
-You're welcome.

-Thank you.
-You're welcome.

-Thank you.
-You're welcome.

Thank-- thank-- thank you.

[doctor] You're welcome!

[loudly] Hello?

Hello?

[groans]

[quirky music playing]

[groans]

[groans]

[grunts]

"Whitcomb, 504."

[groans] Whitcomb, 504.

[elevator bell dings]

[quirky music continues]

[knocks on door]

Hello?

Uh, excuse me, Dr. Whitcomb,

I know you're busy.

My name is Adrian Monk.

Uh, look, I-- I saw a doctor downstairs,

but I would like a second opinion.

I thought maybe if I could check in

for two or three days,

you know, maybe you could run some tests.

Dr. Whitcomb?

-[thud]
-Ow, ow!

Ow, God! Okay, I'm-- I'm okay.

[grunts]

[suspenseful music playing]

Captain.

What do you got?

There may have been somebody else here.

Look at that blood spatter.

Uh, no, no, that was me.

Sorry.

You still bleeding?

Yeah.

What'd the doctor say?

Well, she cauterized it,
but I don't think--

Sometimes you gotta
cauterize 'em again, Monk.

I used to get nosebleeds all the time.

I'm not sure it is a nosebleed.

Well, what else could it be?

Well-- that's what I was gonna ask him.

Captain, I talked to the secretary.
What happened to your nose?

-[thud]
-Ow!

[grunts quietly] It's okay.

It's all cool.

Yeah, it's all cool.

Monk, as long as you're here…

Yeah, yeah, sure. Okay, no problem.

[quirky music playing]

Ah--

Empty bottles.

He took the pills, but not the bottles?

There's a drug rehab center downstairs.

We get addicts and junkies
in here all the time.

Security's a nightmare,

but-- we're a hospital.
We have to keep the doors open.

[Monk] Oh--

Why didn't he just take the bottles?

He wanted us to find these.

He wanted us to think "junkie."

Oh, yeah, see there?

He was wearing slippers,
rounded and smooth.

[Stottlemeyer] A patient.

Not a junkie, a patient.

[Stottlemeyer] What do you got?

There's powder.

Yeah.

-Smells like talcum powder.
-[Disher] Captain, look at this.

What is that?

That-- that looks like a seal.

That could be
from one of our oxygen tanks.

[Stottlemeyer] "Room 623."

Six twenty-three.

All right, let's go!

Uh, Lieutenant, that's the geriatric ward.

If he's a patient up there,

he's at least 80 years old.

Well, then, we better move fast.

[Disher] All right, boys, 623. Let's go.

[quirky music continues]

Six twenty-three.

There's a stain.

Must be a leak from upstairs.

Would you stand up straight?

It's just a nosebleed, for God's sake.

I hate hospitals.

Well, let's meet our suspect.

"Hank Johansen, 82 years old."

He's getting a colectomy
on Wednesday morning.

[holster unsnaps]

I think you can secure
your weapon, Lieutenant.

That's a perfect match.

Get the tech guys down here.
We've found our murder weapon.

Yes, sir.

[dial pad beeping]

Well, what do you think? Is he the guy?

Uh… stranger things have happened.

I can't think of one offhand.

Yes, they have.

Look at this.

What?

Looks like it might've been readjusted.

Seems like it'd be too small for this guy.

-Aah!
-What the hell are you doing?

-Uh-- uh-- uh--
-Are you trying to kiss me?

No, no, no.

No, sir.

[Stottlemeyer] Mr. Johansen, hi.

I'm Captain Leland Stottlemeyer.

Homicide detective.

This is Lieutenant Disher.

Who's your lady friend?

This is Adrian Monk.

He's a… a special consultant.

-What happened to your nose?
-[Monk] Uh--

You get shot?

Shot? No, no.

But it is-- it's bleeding pretty badly.

I caught a bullet in my nose in Korea.

It still hurts like a son of a bitch,

but you don't hear me crying about it.

I'm not crying.

[Johansen] But you want to, don't you?

Yeah, he wants to cry. Yeah.

I'm gonna call you Soft Serve.

Like the ice-cream-- soft and squishy.

Thank you.

Mr. Johansen,

there was a homicide

last night on the fifth floor.

We're investigating it.

Good for you.

Sir, a man was beaten to death

with that oxygen tank.

Your oxygen tank.

What the hell are you talking about?

Where were you last night

between the hours of 1:00 and 3:00 a.m.?

[shouting] Where do you think I was?

What is this,

your first day with a new brain?

No.

I was here!

Hooked up to this damn machine.

Beep beep beep.

You see Dr. Scott, you tell him

I want this thing unhooked.

It's driving me mental.

Who-- who's Dr. Scott?

Dr. Davis Scott is taking out

half my colon on Wednesday.

And he's the second
best surgeon in California.

And that's not my opinion.

That's a fact.

Soft Serve… I know my rights,

and you people
can't just waltz in here and--

[snores]

Hey, Soft Serve, come here.

Crime Scene's on their way,
and the floor is secure.

So what do you think?
Do you think somebody came in here,

stole this guy's oxygen tank,
and took it downstairs?

Why would they bring it back?

Why would they bring it back?

It's not possible.

Mr. Johansen never left his room.
He's been on the heart monitor all night.

Here's a cardiogram.

One a.m. to 3:30.
No gaps, no interruptions.

Well, actually,

all we know for sure is
that he never took the monitor off.

Uh-- what if he took it with him?

-Randy, please.
-No, it-- it's possible.

I mean, all he had to do was

strap the monitor to his back--

and then climb out the window,

shimmy down one story,

unspooling 600 feet of wire along the way.

He's 82 years old.

He's a veteran.

They were the Greatest Generation.

You through?

[Monk] Miss…

do you think Mr. Johansen

could lift an oxygen tank?

It must weigh about 40 pounds.

You might want to ask
his primary physician, Dr. Scott.

And where is he?

I know exactly where Dr. Scott is.

Room 694.

Down the hall, to the right.

Follow the signs. He's been there all day.

All day?

He's a patient in the cardio ward.
He admitted himself last night.

Thank you.

It's possible…

Well, sounds good, Davis.

You know, Dr. Scott,
we can come back later,

when you're feeling better.

No, I feel great.
This is just a precaution.

Last night I had a slight
substernal chest pain.

I checked myself in,
had them run a couple of tests.

Is everything okay?

Never felt better, first good night's
sleep I've had since med school.

You got lucky, Davis.

You gotta tap the brakes.

Thank you, Mother.

Do you seriously think
Hank Johansen was involved

with what happened last night?

Well, we're not sure.

Well-- I can't imagine how.

He has progressive rheumatoid arthritis

in both legs.

So you don't think he could
lift a 40-pound oxygen tank?

[Scott] Hank Johansen?

He can't even put his own pants on.

And besides, isn't he
hooked up to one of these?

I mean, you'd know if he left the room.

I heard it was somebody from the clinic.

A… junkie.

Excuse me. Excuse me, Doctor.

Doctors.

Would you mind taking a look at this?

Have we met?

I'm sorry, this is Adrian Monk.
He's, uh, unofficially with us.

I see.

Well, it's not my specialty,

but as long as I'm here.

You're a lucky man.

Most have to wait
three months for this consultation.

Thank you.

[Scott] Bleeding on and off?

On and on.

-Does this hurt?
-Yes, ow! Ow, ow, ow!

-I haven't done anything yet.
-It was going to hurt.

I can tell.

Okay, I'm not gonna touch you.

Relax.

Here's the thing--
I went to the emergency room--

Let me guess, they tried to cauterize it,

-it didn't take.
-Exactly!

And there was this woman
in the waiting room, and--

she said that her stepbrother--

-[Scott] Had the exact same symptom.
-Yes.

And now you've convinced yourself
there's some kind of tumor.

You think it's a tumor? He said tumor.

-He said the word "tumor."
-Yeah.

You heard him.
You heard him, and I knew it.

I knew it. I can feel it.

It's right back here.

It's like the size of a basketball.

For the love of God, can I get a room?

Monk, that's not what he meant.

[Scott] Mr. Monk, you don't have a tumor.

Relax. Take a breath.

[breathes deeply]

Now, these conditions often
have psychological components.

Are you under a lot of stress?

-I wouldn't say that.
-I would.

Mr. Monk I have good news.

-[whispering] You're not sick.
-Really?

[Scott] Mm-hmm.
You don't belong in a hospital.

-You belong on a beach, with your feet up.
-Oh, well… that's a lot of sand.

Get out of town tonight,
lower the heart rate.

Doctor's orders.

[doctor] Book two seats.
And, please, take him with you.

Okay, no signs of arrhythmia--
so I'm kicking you out of here.

This bed is for sick people.

Thank you, Bradley.
See you at two o'clock.

Wait, you're not still doing your rounds?

I have 18 patients in this joint
a lot sicker than me.

Somebody's gotta be responsible.

[Bradley sighs] Well,
it's true what they say.

Doctors make the worst patients.

Good luck, gentlemen.

[Stottlemeyer] Thank you.

[suspenseful music playing]

[Monk] Did you hurt yourself?

Oh, racquetball.

I missed the shot too.

That's what really hurt.

[Monk] Uh-- is that talcum powder?

Uh-- yes.

And if you keep over-focusing,

that nose is never gonna shut itself off.

I have powder on my hands all the time.

All doctors do. It's in the latex gloves.

[grunts]

Now, if you'll excuse me, gentlemen.

If you need me, give me a call.

Thank you.

I think he's right. It's all in your head.

Not all in my head anymore.

[grunting] See?

Where's Natalie?

I gave her the day off.

[scoffs] That was nice of you.

Yeah, it was.

You were right. There's a motive.

Dr. Scott's being sued for malpractice.

The late Dr. Whitcomb was
scheduled to testify against him.

-Malpractice?
-Yeah, a year ago, Scott lost

a patient on the operating table.

Dr. Whitcomb claims--

or was about to claim--

that, uh-- he saw Scott

popping pills before the operation.

Amphetamines.

He would've lost his license.

He did it.

Dr. Scott, he's the guy.

Was it the talcum powder?

The powder,

plus the bruise on his leg.

-It was still swollen.
-Well, yeah.

Had to be less than a day old.

Well, that could've been from racquetball.

No, I-- I-- I don't think so.

I think he hit his leg on the coffee table

in Dr. Whitcomb's office.

I hit it too.

Look.

See?

It's in the exact same spot.

And, Randy, you hit it. Remember?

-Yeah.
-Well, let's see it.

What are you doing?

-Showing you the bruise.
-What's he doing?

Uh-- It's near your ankle.
Just pull up your pant leg.

Well, six of one, right?

It's not six of one.
Roll up your pant leg.

Well, I'm already unbuckled--

-[grunts]
-Oh. Okay, fine.

[Disher] Ow!

Hey, see, Dr. Scott--
was in that office last night.

He was killing Dr. Whitcomb.

How? I mean,

I talked to the security guard who
was sitting in front of Dr. Scott's room--

I mean, he said no one
went in or went out all night.

He did it.

Plus, he was hooked up
to that heart monitor.

I don't know how he did it, but he did it.

He's the guy.

Nice and steady heartbeat all night long.

He never left his room.

First Mr. Johansen, now Dr. Scott--

are you gonna want
EKGs on all our patients?

No, ma'am, that will not be necessary.

Okay, all right, all right, loo-- look.

Okay, okay, Cap.

[whispering] Cap, Cap, Cap, listen.

I have an idea.

Okay, Dr. Scott was hooked up
to the heart monitor, right?

-Yeah, that's right.
-Okay.

What if-- what if he took
the monitor with him?

What if he hooked it up to a battery pack,

and he just carried it with him?

The security guard
said he never left the room.

Out the window. It's only one floor.

-Interesting.
-Interesting?

Well-- it's worth considering.

I said the exact same thing
a half an hour ago about the old guy,

and you shot me down.

You didn't say the same thing, Randy.
You said something about a spool of cable,

-800 feet of cable--
-It was the same basic idea,

except for the battery.

The battery is a big part
of what Monk is saying.

No, it's the same thing.

What-- what,
if I say something, it's a punch line,

if he says it, he's a genius?

Would you explain to him
what you mean about the battery?

Yeah. All right, listen.

Okay, he's a doctor, right? So--

Okay, the-- the monitor-- the monitor--

Okay, I got nothin', all right?

Okay? We're both wrong.

All right, he couldn't
have taken it with him,

but… there's gotta be something else.

Sorry-- sorry, Captain.
It's this damn tumor.

I'm losing a lot of blood here.

Okay, let's move on.

Um…

Randy and I are gonna
go down to security again,

and review surveillance tapes.

What about me?

-You're going home.
-What?

Monk, maybe you're right.

Maybe the guy is the guy--

but he's also a doctor,

and he gave you some very good advice.

You need to go home, you need to relax.

You need to turn your brain off.

I, uh-- uh-uh, I can't.

I can't.

Go home.

Come on.

Something from the bar?

Oh, no, thanks.

Oh, what happened to your--

I slipped in the shower
and sprained my wrist.

No big deal.

Aw, and they're making you work?

What was I gonna do?
They didn't have anybody to cover for me.

The boss is a pretty decent guy.
I didn't just want to leave him hanging.

I'll be back to check on you in a minute.

[suspenseful music playing]

Taxi.

[suspenseful music continues]

Hello, Shelly.

-Dr. Scott!
-Did you miss me?

They told me you were sick.

Don't worry about me, darling.

I am the Rock of Gibraltar.

-So are you.
-[chuckles]

I brought some friends with me.

The best and the brightest.

Or so I'm told.

Mr. Collins, you're up.

She's your patient.

What do you see?

Okay… rebound tenderness,

leukocytosis--

Your diagnosis, Doctor.

Acute diverticulitis.

Congratulations, Mr. Collins,
you just killed my favorite patient.

Mr. Collins has conveniently overlooked

her persistent fever,

and right lower-quadrant pain,

indicating what?

Indicating what?

Uh-- appendicitis.

We may have a doctor
in the house after all.

Any questions?

Yes, I have a question.

Mr. Monk?

I thought I sent you home.

I had some unfinished business.

This is Mr. Adrian Monk.
He's with the police department.

I'm sure you all heard about
what happened to Graydon Whitcomb?

Could you take a look at this, Doctor?

This is from an EKG.

Uh, yes, I think
I've seen one or two of these.

Well, this was from last night.

Midnight to 3:00 a.m.

-There are some gaps here…
-[Scott] Mm.

…and here.

It looks like it was disconnected.

Eva, explain these gaps to Mr. Monk.

There are gaps like these in any EKG.

Anytime a patient rolls over

or changes position.

Well, what about this one?

How-- how long is--
is this gap right here?

Eight seconds, maybe ten.

[Scott] Ten seconds.

Not much help, is it?

What's going on?

[Scott] It's almost too absurd.

You remember my patient Hank Johansen?

Eighty-two years old,

osteoarthritis, kidney failure.

He is Detective Monk's number one suspect.

I think that may not be blood, Mr. Monk.

I think you may be losing cranial fluid.

[quiet chuckles]

Yeah, actually…

I have a different suspect.

Well, that's a relief.

Yeah. This one had a motive.

The victim was about to testify
against him in a malpractice suit.

I hope your new suspect wasn't
hooked up to a heart monitor too,

because that would mean
he couldn't possibly have done it.

Am I right?

It would also mean you're wasting my time.

Your time may not mean much, Mr. Monk,

but my time in this hospital

is a precious commodity.

Go bleed somewhere else.

Excuse me.

Ah--

I'm out.

Bye.

Oh, sorry.

Don't mind me.

[quirky music playing]

[scoffs]

There's a stain.

Yeah, there's a leak upstairs.

I saw the same stain in another room.

They're probably connected, or used to be.

A lot of these rooms were
divided up a few years back.

Not my problem, that's all I know.

[quirky music continues]

[snap]

Soft Serve!

What the hell are you doing in my closet?

Uh--

How long you been in there?

-Uh--
-That's it.

After my operation, it's go time.

In the parking lot, you and me.

Mr. Johansen,

who assigned you to this room?

None of your damn business, you moron.

Now, where's my wallet?

What did you do with my wallet?

Sir, please! This is very important.

I am investigating a homicide here.

If you touched my wallet, so help me God,

you're gonna be bleeding
from more than your nose.

It was Dr. Scott, wasn't it?

As a matter of fact it was.

There was a waiting list,

and he had to pull a lot
of strings to get me in here.

Oh, there it is.

Sir.

-Twelve…
-Sir.

…thirteen, fourteen.

Okay.

You're a lucky son of a bitch.

Mr. Johansen, listen to me!

Dr. Scott killed Dr. Whitcomb.

And I know how he did it.

He checked himself in as a patient.

He knew this hospital.

He knew there had been a renovation.

So he made sure that at one time,

his room was connected to your room.

At about two o'clock, he made his move.

He came in here through the supply closet.

He knew you'd be sleeping.

He probably prescribed your sedatives.

-[Johansen] As a matter of fact, he did.
-[Monk] Right.

Then he put his monitor on your chest.

He took the oxygen tank,

and then he went downstairs.

After the murder, he came back here,

put his monitor back on,

and snuck back into his room.

It was perfect.

Your heartbeat was his alibi.

So…

what do you think?

I'll tell you what I think.

I owe you an apology.

-Really?
-Yeah, that would explain everything.

-Yes.
-You know,

you really are a great detective.

But… I need proof.

Yeah, that's the thing. You need proof.

Yeah.

I've got it.

I've got it.

Okay, if I'm right,
which, you know-- I am,

for about ten minutes, during the murder,

your heartbeat, and Dr. Scott's heartbeat,

are the exact same heartbeat.

All I have to do…

is find those cardiograms.

Yeah. Good thinking.

You better go.

[mumbles] It's very exciting.

Yeah.

I better use the door.

Uh-- [mumbles] Dr. Scott, please.

Yes, it's very important.

Uh-- Dr. Scott, this is Hank Johansen.

You know that, uh, wack-job detective

uh-- Adrian Monk?

[chuckles] Yeah.

He just jumped out of my closet,

screaming that you had killed some guy

with my oxygen tank.

[laughs]

Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, I know. [mumbles]

You better do something
before he hurts somebody.

Yeah.

Yeah, yeah, I know exactly where he is.

[quirky music playing]

[grunts]

[man] So the judge is laughing,

half the jury's laughing, I look down--

-I'm still wearing my slippers.
-[gasping] Oh.

[laughing] Did you win the case?

Yeah.

And now they're my lucky slippers.

I keep 'em in my briefcase.

-[laughs]
-[man 2] Clara?

Don't worry, I got you.

-[man 2] I didn't know where you were.
-[Clara] It's okay.

I'm right here.

I wouldn't just walk away.

You know me better than that.

[sighs]

[Natalie] Alex,

I'm so sorry.

You are so great, but…

I have to go.

You're leaving?

My boss needs me.

Uh, how do you know?

He always needs me. I'm sorry.

[sentimental music playing]

[sighs]

[fly buzzes]

[fly continues buzzing]

[fly continues buzzing]

[bed motor clicks on]

You said you wanted to be admitted.

Your prayers have been answered, Mr. Monk.

No, you can't speak or move.

Don't even try.

You're literally wasting your breath.

I've injected 3 ccs of tribusonol

into your larynx.

Do you have any idea
what I do here every day?

How many lives these hands have saved?

How many lives they will save?

Hundreds, thousands.

That's my mission.

It's why I'm here.

I am the miracle man.

Do you think I would let you,

former-Detective Monk,

or Dr. Graydon Whitcomb-- or anyone--

stop me?

[suspenseful music playing]

Oh, by the way,
I have some good news for you.

I stopped that pesky nosebleed.

-[garbled mutter]
-You're welcome.

I have some other news,
not-- quite so good.

You… had an accident.

At least, that's what your chart says.

You were in a stairwell, and you tripped.

You suffered a concussion.

Possible nerve damage, multiple fractures.

Ah-- it gets worse.

I don't know how this happened.

The name on this chart
is Dale Butterworth.

In four minutes, the day nurse--

who is new to this floor--

is going to walk in, read this chart,

and administer a massive dose

if intravenous tetracycline.

[garbled mutter]

Yes, I know about your allergy.

Unfortunately, mistakes like this…

happen all the time.

[suspenseful music continues]

[man over P.A.] Dr. Morris, 9-1-9-7.

Dr. Morris, 9-1-9-7.

[suspenseful music continues]

Hi.

Excuse me, I was looking for Adrian Monk.

He was sitting right over there.

He's been admitted.

He's been admitted?

[nurse] Mm-hmm.

He's in Intensive Care.

For a nosebleed?

-[knock on door]
-Mr. Monk?

My God.

[garbled mutter]

Oh, my God, Mr. Monk, I'm so sorry.

I can't believe this.

What happened?

They said you fell down the stairs?

[garbled mutter]

Oh, it's all right. I'm here.

I'll take good care of you, okay?

Oh…

-Hi. How's he doing today?
-I don't know. I just got here.

[nurse] Are you his wife?

No, I'm his assistant. And his friend.

[Monk grunts softly]

I think he's in a lot of pain.
He's not very good with pain.

Okay, well, this should help.

[garbled mutter]

[Monk grunts softly]

[whispering] What?

[barely audible] Dr. Scott…

Dr.-- Dr. Scott?

[nurse] That's his primary.

You're very lucky.
Dr. Scott's the greatest.

Oh, did you hear that?
You have a great doctor.

-[Monk groans]
-It's okay. It's okay.

It's okay, it's okay, just relax.

I've got you. Give me your hand.

There you go, just relax.

He should have some ice chips.

-Okay, I'll get them.
-[Monk groans]

[suspenseful music playing]

It's okay.

Mr. Monk, I just wanna tell you

that I'm so… sorry

for leaving you here this morning.

It will never happen again.

If you are ever in trouble,

I will be there for you, I promise.

Okay, let go.

-Let go. Let go.
-[Monk grunts]

[grunts]

Okay. I'll be right back.

[Natalie sighs] Nurse, excuse me.

I just want to thank you
for being so sweet to him,

but I wanted to ask you,

do you have the kind of ice maker

that makes round ice cubes?

Because he'd prefer that.

[nurse] We might.

[suspenseful music continues]

So, how long have you
worked for Mr. Butterworth?

Who's Mr. Butterworth?

[grunts]

[Natalia] Mr. Monk!

[breathes heavily]

Oh, God.

Oh, it's okay.

[sentimental music playing]

[quirky music playing]

Take it easy. Take it easy.

One step at a time.

There you go.

There you go.

You-- you're scraping the bag now.

-Sorry, sorry, sorry, sorry.
-[Stottlemeyer] It's a perfect match.

I'd like to see him try
to explain this to a jury.

It was my idea.

No, it's not, Randy.
It's completely different.

No, it was the same basic idea.

Our next crime scene,
I'm not gonna say anything.

I'm just gonna write everything down
and copyright it.

Yeah, you copyright everything

in your notebook.

Maybe I will.

Ow!

Son of a preacher man!

-Oh, God, you okay?
-That's bleeding.

-You wanna go back inside?
-No, no, I'm fine. Let's just go.

Mr. Monk, it could get infected.

-Maybe we should just go back in there.
-No. Natalie, no.

Can't go running into the E.R.

about every little thing.

Let's just go. Let's go.
Come on, let's go home.

-[door slams]
-[Monk] Ow!

-[Natalie sighs]
-[Monk] Ow.

[theme song playing]